


Self Sacrificing Idiots

by pinegreenapples



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fairy Tale, M/M, Robin Hood because I'm cliche
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-07
Updated: 2016-06-07
Packaged: 2018-07-12 19:53:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,716
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7120162
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pinegreenapples/pseuds/pinegreenapples
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“You’re an idiot, you know?” Barry glared at Oliver.</p>
<p>“I’m-what?” Oliver sounded incredibly confused.</p>
<p>“An idiot.” Barry reiterated. “You said you wouldn’t get caught.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Self Sacrificing Idiots

Barry startled as Oliver dropped down from the tree in front of him.

“Oliver!” He hissed. “Don’t _do_ that!”

Oliver just frowned at him. “You’re late.”

“I’m always late.”

“Later than usual.” Oliver amended and Barry blushed slightly.

“Joe, um, nearly caught me sneaking out.”

Oliver raised an eyebrow. “I thought you said he was going to be out with friends tonight.”

Barry shrugged before replying. “Fred got sick at the last minute. Joe and the others decided to check up on him and then head home.”

The two stood in awkward silence before Oliver broke it with another question.

“How are things in town? Have the Johnsons been doing well since we saw them last?”

“Oh! Um, yes. Yes, they’re doing much better since you gave them that money and they are very grateful. They actually asked me to thank you for that when I next saw you.” Barry rubbed his upper arm before continuing. “There’s been talk of a large caravan of merchants coming through soon by way of the Western road. They’ll pass right by you. As such, Sheriff Lance is sending out a guard to help protect the goods from you. You’ll have to be more careful when you attack them.”

The archer nodded and made a move to leave when Barry called out.

“Please be careful!” Barry looked nervous but determined, hands gripping his elbows in a makeshift arm cross. “Sheriff Lance is desperate to catch you, don’t let him.”

Oliver smiled faintly. “I’ll do my best.”

“You’d better!” Barry yelled as Oliver left the clearing and moved deeper into the Sherwood forest.

Barry turned back to the direction of the cottage he shared with Iris and Joe.

“You’d better, Oliver Queen,” He mumbled, “I don’t what I’d do if got captured.”

***

Barry snuck back into the cottage, praying that Joe had fallen asleep while he’d been gone. Of, course he was never that lucky, and Joe was in the kitchen sipping on a tumbler of milk.

“Mind telling me what you were doing out so late?”  Joe asked.

Barry froze as his mind rapidly flicked through excuses.

“I-um, went for a walk.” Barry blurted. “I couldn’t sleep. Figured maybe some fresh air might help.” He added, hoping that his excuse didn’t sound as flimsy to Joe as it did to his own ears.

“Uh huh.” Joe said it in that tone of voice that let Barry know his excuse really hadn’t passed muster.

“Do we need to have that conversation about women again?”

Barry spluttered and turned bright red. “Joe! No! I-there’s-No!”

Joe chuckled as Barry pushed past him and ran up the stairs. “Tell me she at least has a nice personality!” He yelled up after his foster son.

When Barry got to his room he collapsed on the bed face first. He couldn’t _believe_ that Joe thought he was-Barry shuddered. He really didn’t want to think about that and besides, it threw Joe off the trail of what Barry was really doing when he snuck out.

Barry sighed into his pillow as he thought of Oliver again. He knew Oliver never took unnecessary risks and was practically anal about making sure everything was accounted and planned for even if the likelihood of it happening was very slim but that didn’t stop him from worrying. He knew it was stupid, but every time he saw Oliver disappear through the trees he wondered if the next time he saw him would be dragged through the town square.

Barry shook his head to clear such thoughts. Oliver knew about the added security, he’d be even more cautious. Barry was just being ridiculous.

He still had trouble sleeping for the longest time that night.

***

Barry was antsy all week as he waited for the caravan to arrive. He wasn’t the only one, however, Sheriff Lance was just as on edge as he was. He kept barking orders sharper than normal and glaring at all the other staff in the castle like they’d personally offended him twice over instead of the usual intensity of once.

Barry was used to it since he’d been a scribe in the castle forever, even through the Laurel Debacle, as he liked to call it. Although, he would admit, Sheriff Lance had been considerably better before the Laurel Debacle. Both in temperament and in intensity regarding the Hood.

You see, the Laurel Debacle had grown out of years of Sheriff Lance and Laurel clashing over her choices and beliefs. The Hood was simply the straw that broke the camel’s back. Laurel had been a Hood supporter just like him and had been passing information to Oliver until one day her father caught her and forced her to stop. Laurel was furious. She didn’t speak to him for a month before she finally disappeared. Sheriff Lance was tireless in his search for her. He went on week long trips out into the countryside to find her but it seemed as if there was no trace of her. It wasn’t until Sheriff Lance and a party of soldiers interrupted a heist by the Hood’s crew that they found Laurel. She was  fighting alongside the Hood and his allies. After that, Sheriff Lance was relentless in pursuing the Hood.

Barry understood it in a way. He knew Joe would probably be the same way if he or Iris went missing only to found working with what Sheriff Lance called “a bastard thief that  had no honor”.

When  news of the caravan did arrive, Lance was off like a shot. He rode immediately out to greet the caravan. Barry wondered how mad he’d be when he saw the caravan stripped bare of its money. Sheriff Lance seemed to grow worse with each passing theft, as if each one pained him personally because he knew Laurel was a part of it.

The caravan was indeed stripped of its riches when it rode into the town square. It did still have its wares, however that the Hood’s team insisted on, they refused to leave anyone completely destitute and only took what they needed to help the people of Nottingham pay the exorbitant taxes imposed by the king.

Lance was not as sour as Barry expected, though. In fact, he looked positively radiant. Barry felt dread begin to well in his stomach as he peered anxiously around the Sheriff. The dread dissipated into harsh realization and Barry had to steady himself against a column.

“Damn it, Oliver.” He whispered as he watched the horse trotting behind Lance come to a stop. Oliver was astride it, with his hands tied to the saddle. The archer seemed dazed, lolling slightly and Barry felt his heart climb into his throat. He hoped fervently Oliver wasn’t hurt too badly. He didn’t know how well Oliver would fare in the cells if he was injured but he knew it wouldn’t be well.

Lance dismounted and untied Oliver’s hands from the saddle before hauling him down off the horse. Oliver landed with a heavy thud and it looked that if Lance hadn’t kept his grip on Oliver’s restraints, he would’ve fallen.

Barry took in a shuddering breath and closed his eyes, a fist pressed against his lips. He couldn’t take this. Barry left the ramparts and sequestered himself in an empty room. He leaned against the cool stone wall and tried not to think of what had happened to Oliver to make him so dazed.

Barry knew Oliver would probably be questioned by Sheriff Lance in an attempt to find his daughter but after that, Oliver was in danger of losing his life. Sheriff Lance wasn’t fond of killing criminals but because of how well known the Hood was, he probably wouldn’t have much of a choice.

He spent another few minutes in the room, scenarios and plans racing through his mind only to be discarded. He had to do _something_ , he thought desperately, if only there was some way to make it down to the cells without it being obvious.

Barry sat up straight as an idea came to him. It certainly wasn’t the best idea he’d ever had, but it might just work.

***

The guard looked at Barry and then the orders Barry had handed him. He sighed before he gave the orders back and opened the door to the cells for Barry.

“Knock on the door when you’re done uncatalogued.” He said, he looked as if he was in great need of a bit of excitement.

“Thank you!” Barry beamed at the guard. “I’ll probably be back the next few days in order to make sure I’ve got everything. Mistress Hilda always thinks of things after she’s already sent us on jobs.”

The guard continued to look as bored as he had been before and Barry decided that maybe the guard was less interested in his cover story than he had originally thought. He quickly made his way past the guard and continued on through the rows of cells.

He checked each one, despite the fact that most were empty. Sheriff Lance didn’t imprison people for no reason, he was actually quite fair in everything not involving the Hood.

He found Oliver towards the back. The man was sitting against the wall with his head touching the stone. His face was drawn tight in pain.

Barry bit his lip as he studied Oliver’s figure. He noticed a dull glistening near Oliver’s temple and felt sick when he realized it was blood. His arms were bleeding from the rope burns and he had a black eye that was starting to swell mightily.

“Oliver!” Barry hissed and Oliver’s eyes flew open. He tried to stand up but he winced and leaned back again. Bruised, maybe even cracked ribs, his brain helpfully supplied. Barry bit his lip a little harder and felt blood well out.

“Barry?” He whispered. “What are you doing here? Get out before Lance catches you!”

“You’re an idiot, you know?” Barry glared at Oliver.

“I’m-what?” Oliver sounded incredibly confused.

“An idiot.” Barry reiterated. “You said you wouldn’t get caught.”

Oliver sighed and leaned his head back against the stone.

“It was either me or Laurel, Barry, and I wasn’t going to let Lance have her. She’s been running away from him for a reason, I couldn’t let her be near him again.”

Barry kicked at a rock on the floor.

“I’m going to try to break you out.” Barry said but Oliver was already shaking his head before Barry even finished the sentence.

“No.” His voice brooked no argument.

“Oh, what? Like you’re going to stop me?” Barry scoffed. “I’m going to need a couple days to get Lance’s key to your cell. He’s keeping it personally, he doesn’t want to take any chances. Do you think you’ll be well enough to walk or will I need Dig’s help?”

“Barry.” Oliver growled but Barry just ignored him.

“I’m going to at least contact them, they need to know you’re okay. Also, I’ll be back tomorrow with some food that isn’t harder than a rock. Don’t injure yourself any further, it’s not exactly clean in here.”

Barry began to walk away.

“Barry!” Oliver growled again. “You will do no such thing! I don’t want you getting hurt because of me, do you hear me?” Barry looked at him, unimpressed.

“Oliver, you are not going to compound your idiocy of being captured with your idiocy of being a self sacrificing martyr. I’m breaking you out, whether you like it or not.” And with that, Barry walked briskly away.

***

Barry stepped into the clearing and whistled a downward scale. He waited for a few moments before a figure dropped down from the same tree Oliver had used a week ago.

The figure pointed a bow a him.

“Who are you? State your name.” The voice was feminine and one Barry didn’t recognize. It must be Oliver’s sister, Thea, Barry realized.

“It’s Barry.” He called back.

Thea shifted her stance.

“Barry? What are you doing here? You and Oliver don’t have a meeting planned.”

“Oliver’s been captured. I’m going to break him out.” Barry replied.

Thea lowered her bow. “What? No, you can’t, Barry. Let us, we have more exper-”

“Look,” Barry interrupted, “Sheriff Lance has the only key and as of right now, I’m the only one who can get it without bringing the whole castle guard down on us. I’ll have Oliver here in three days, alright?”

Thea slid the arrow off her bow and back into her quiver. “I don’t like it.”

Barry sighed. “I’m not too fond of your brother getting captured either but this is our only chance to get Oliver out without any casualties.”

Thea studied him a moment more before nodding.

“If you aren’t here in three days we’re coming after you.”

“I’d tell you not to, but I know you’d just ignore me.” Barry grinned wryly at Thea.

“Damn right.” She said before disappearing through the trees just like her brother.

***

Barry made it into the cells the following night relatively easily again. Just like before, the guards didn’t care much for his story and just let him in.

He spent the night on the floor next the bars of Oliver’s cell talking. At first, Oliver had tried to make him stop his rescue plan but Barry simply spoke over him about how he had figured out a way to get the key from Lance. Eventually, Oliver stopped and they moved on to other topics.

They talked about Barry’s friends at the castle, Cisco and Caitlin, and about Barry’s job as a scribe. Barry even got Oliver to tell him a little bit about the members of his group. He’d known their names but never anything about their personalities, it was interesting to get to know them through Oliver’s eyes.

Eventually, Barry had to leave. He promised he’d be back the following night to break Oliver out and left, stomach roiling at having to leave Oliver again.

***

The next day, Barry mustered up the courage to ask Lance for the supplies list for the guards and armaments. He said his friend needed to make a copy for the quartermaster but he’d lost his own version. Lance sighed irritably before leading the scribe up to his room and rummaging around in a drawer for it.

Barry sidled about the room in what he hoped was a casual manner. He kept a sharp eye out for the key. He was just about to give up when he found it hanging off Sheriff Lance’s coat rack, hidden behind his heavy woolen cloak. Barry snatched the key in the nick of time as Lance turned around and shoved the list at him.

“Here, Allen. Make sure your friend makes three copies this time. I don’t appreciate having to dig this out because of his incompetence.”

Barry nodded doggedly before beating a hasty retreat back to the scribes’ workroom. Only a few hours until he broke Oliver out, Barry thought grimly, he could do it.

***

Quentin unlocked the door to his room and stepped in, letting it shut behind him with a bang. He scrubbed a hand over his face and groaned. After Allen had come in that morning, it had been minor issue after minor issue that he’d had to attend to despite the fact that his presence had absolutely no bearing on the actual issue and it was a colossal waste of his time.

Quentin glanced at the coat rack next to him. It had been a few days since he’d visited the Hood, perhaps the man would be more receptive to his questions. He reached  behind his cloak and felt around for the key. After a few minutes, he huffed and pulled his cloak off the rack.

_Oh hell no._

Quentin ran out the door and down the halls towards the cells. There was no way in hell he was letting the Hood get away before he found his daughter.

Quentin rushed down the steps leading to the cells and yelled at the guards to open the door. They barely did before he ran through it and on until he reached the Hood’s cell. He looked through the open door at the empty cell as if perhaps the Hood hadn’t escaped and it was all an elaborate ruse. He cursed colorfully and turned to sound the alarm when a voice stopped him.

“Don’t move, Sheriff.”

Quentin turned to find Barry helping support the weight of the Hood with one arm while the other had a sword in it’s hand. He held the sword towards Quentin, the tip quavering slightly.

Quentin felt his brain come to a full stop as he tried to process the fact that sweet Barry Allen was breaking the Hood out of jail.

“Please step into the cell, Sheriff. I don’t want to make this any more difficult than it has to be.” Barry seemed frightened but  determined as he motioned with the sword towards the cell. Quentin stepped slowly in that direction, assessing whether or not he’d be able to pull his sword out in enough time to actually defend himself.

“A little faster, please, Sheriff. I’m afraid we don’t have all night to mosey around.” Barry stepped closer to Quentin, sword still pointed menacingly in dichotomy to the sweet face behind it.

Quentin decided it wasn’t worth the risk and grudgingly stepped into the cell. Barry gently shunted the Hood onto the nearby wall before walking into Quentin’s cell as well.

Barry smiled weakly at Quentin. “I’m sorry.” He whispered.

“Just tell me one thing,” He demanded, “Why?” He watched as Barry’s eyes filled with tears.

“Because I love him.” He whispered and that was the last thing Quentin registered before the haft of Barry’s sword slammed into his temple.

***

Oliver had been quiet ever since the encounter with Lance. Of course, Barry knew that stealth generally required quiet but still, he had been expecting more disapproving hisses and irritated directions of how to properly exit a guarded castle. Nothing. Not a peep. Barry was starting to get worried that Oliver was in danger of passing out but whenever he looked over at the other man, Oliver always looked wide awake and alert.

They made it out of the castle with relative ease. Barry had known there was a back door to the cell used exclusively by servants to empty chamber pots and such and so there wasn’t a guard posted. Besides, anyone planning a breakout still needed the keys.

After that, the trek to the forest was simply a test of strength. They rested every ten minutes or so, Barry really didn’t want to strain Oliver any farther than necessary and cause more damage. It was slow going, but it was for the best. Still through it all, Oliver was silent. Barry almost wanted Oliver to say something so that he wouldn’t have to think about the fact that since Lance had caught him he could never go back to Nottingham. He’d never be able to see Joe or Iris or Caitlin or Cisco, he’d have to stay with Oliver and the rest of his gang.

It wouldn’t be awful. Barry had heard a little about each member from Oliver and he’d even met Laurel, Dig, and Thea. He’d finally get to know them all now and perhaps have a more active role within their little band. Barry wondered if he was really cut out for thievery before he shrugged mentally. It didn’t matter one way or another, even if he never actually stole a penny he’d still be branded a thief along with the rest of the Hood’s gang.

They reached the clearing well into the night and Thea didn’t even bother with protocol before she was out of the tree and checking on Oliver. She fussed over his cuts and berated him when he winced from his bruised ribs.

“Thea, I’m fine.” He rasped and Barry startled at the first words Oliver had said in nearly two hours.

“You most certainly are not, Oliver Queen!” She hissed at him, giving him a glare that could curdle milk. “I’m taking you straight to Felicity.” She pulled him onto her shoulder and Barry supported the Oliver’s other side with his own shoulder.

Thea looked at him askance before asking why he was coming with them and Oliver broke in.

“Lance found us as we were about to leave, he recognized Barry. He can’t go back.”

Thea looked at Barry sympathetically before mouthing an apology. Barry shrugged. He knew the risks, it just wasn’t pleasant to have reality set in.

***

As dawn was rising and Oliver’s band had dispersed to perform various duties, Oliver and Barry sat against a tree trunk and drank in the sunset.

“Did you mean what you said?”

Barry started and glanced at Oliver questioningly.

“What you said to Lance in the cell?” Oliver clarified. Barry looked away, trying to form an appropriate response.

“And if I did?” He murmured, “What then?”

Barry heard the rustle of clothing and found Oliver had attempted to shift to face him better but had aborted halfway through due to his ribs. Barry stifled a laugh at the awkwardly twisted form next to him.

“I’d say I’m interested in exploring where this leads us.” He rasped before breaking out into a wracking cough. Barry stilled briefly.

He studied Oliver a moment longer before opening his mouth. “Do you mean that?” His voice was incredibly soft, as if Barry was worried it was a butterfly that could startle instantly.

Oliver looked at him keenly. “Barry Allen, I have felt something for ever since you sent me arrows made of better wood because you realized my arrows weren’t as good as they could be. I felt my heart do strange things whenever you stepped into that clearing and told me what Lance’s newest plan was and I always wanted to hear more about you than I did the village when I asked.” Oliver was kissing him then, soft and sweet, like he also had a butterfly he didn’t want to startle. Eventually, he pulled back and looked at Barry, uncertain.

Well, Barry thought giddily, that’s a love confession if I do say so myself and pulled Oliver back into another sweet kiss.

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first time writing this pairing and I honestly feel kinda rocky with it. Any feedback on characterization would be much appreciated and thank you for reading!


End file.
